


Opposing Sides

by Owlgirl155



Category: Supernatural, Twilight Zone
Genre: Human Castiel, I wanted to put it on here too, I wrote it years ago so it might be cringy, It's based on an old twilight zone episode, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Apocalypse, Shannon steals a plot, War, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlgirl155/pseuds/Owlgirl155
Summary: Based off one of my favorite twilight zone episodes. Cas and Dean are the only people left after a brutal war, but they are from enemy nations!





	Opposing Sides

It had been over five years since Dean had seen a town.

 

Actually, if he remembered correctly, today would have been the first day of the sixth year. Days blurred together and life could almost become monotonous, if Dean wasn’t fighting for his life. Other humans trying to take the few belongings he had left, animals such as wolves sometimes attempted to attack him, and brutal weather often seriously decreasing his chances of survival. Cold winds went straight through what remained of his leather jacket or the sun scorched his body, there was no in between.

 

The town was a welcome sight to the traveler, although it was a bittersweet one. It reminded him of the life he had and what could have been. Dean Winchester gazed at the town, reminiscing. He thought wistfully of warm food and beds that were not made of dirt and stone. He thought of his brother, Sam. “ _ His hair would probably be down to his knees by now”  _ Dean whispered to himself. He chuckled at the thought as a lump formed in his throat. He held back a sigh and trudged towards the town, hoping to find some food and maybe new clothes. His leather jacket and old uniform were torn and frayed. They had long since been comfortable or protective, but they were better than nothing. His boots had held up better than the rest of his clothing. The laces were frayed and they had lost color in places, but the lining was, by some miracle, still intact and kept out most of the cold. He walked across what had probably been the town’s main road, but now it was a mostly a collection of rocks and rubble. There had been days where he would have driven through this town in his ’67 Chevy Impala, stopped to get an apple pie and a beer, and just kept on driving. As he remembered his old life and his old car, he slowly ambled towards what appeared to be an old restaurant.

 

He noticed that there was an “employee entrance” and swiftly went towards it. If there was any food left, it would most likely be in the kitchen. A noise startled him as he approached the door. As he advanced towards the doorway, he noticed another man standing at a grimy table covered with plates, pans, and other various kitchen utensils. He froze momentarily in horror as he realized what the brunette man wore. His dark uniform contrasted with his paler skin. He was a trespasser, the enemy. He belonged to the people who took his life and brother away from him. His face flushed and eyes glinted with rage and grief. He stopped himself, that war was what destroyed humanity, and if people could just learn to get along, many casualties could have been avoided. Pride was one of humanity’s fatal flaws, many people would die before they would surrender. That was the reason so many met their deaths during the damn war and why society had eroded into anarchy and ruin.

 

_ “Fighting can’t solve this”  _ He thought to himself.

 

He stepped into the door frame of the long vacant building.  Before Dean could say anything, a flash of silver whizzed toward him. When he ducked, he vaguely noted it was a cleaver. He stared at the brunette in a state of awe and confusion. He did not look very strong, but the dark haired man continued to throw a pan and then a bottle at Dean. The glass shattered on the wooden door, echoing in the quiet.

 

_ “I guess we have to do it the hard way”  _ Dean sighed as he lunged toward the slightly shorter man, now armed with a frying pan.

 

The black haired man hit Dean mercilessly with a frying pan and beat him to floor. A table broke under the taller man’s weight. Dean grabbed the shorter man and threw him to the floor as he stood up. The invader stood up once more, only to be knocked out by Dean. He fell like a sack of bricks. The taller man walked to the table where the man had been standing and found a tin can of meat. It was some sort of bird leg, but Dean wasn’t sure if it was chicken or turkey as he bit into it. He didn’t bother tasting it as it slid down his throat. The texture would have made him gag if blonde wasn’t starving. He paced himself and started to savor the meat as he dug in the can for another leg.

 

He stared at the man passed out on the ground. He nearly walked out of town, but changed his mind soon after he stepped outside. The young man turned and walked back to the employee entrance. Maybe most people had lost all sense of morality, but he still had a little left. That man in there was just trying to survive, and he had found the meat first. He cautiously entered the doorway once again, worried that the invader had awoken and would attack him. The shorter man still laid crumpled on the ground like a beat up rag doll. Dean stared at him for a moment and turned him over with his foot so his face wasn’t in the dirt. The man had nice features from what he could see. His beard was overgrown and dirty, much like Dean’s own lighter colored one. His old trench coat flowed around and over his body and a collared shirt that had probably once been white was encrusted with grime. He was skinny, but Dean could just make out the wiry muscles that lay underneath the cloth and grime. Dean walked around the kitchen once again and found a bucket filled with some liquid. He didn’t question how the water got there as he plunged his hand into the coolness. Satisfied, he dumped the water unceremoniously on the dark haired man. 

 

Castiel Novak woke up soaking wet on the dirt floor of a kitchen. Honestly, he couldn’t say it was the first time something like this had happened. He stared at the blonde man towering above him. The man had the biggest emerald eyes Castiel had ever seen. He believed he had died and was staring at an angel, before he saw the lighter color and sigil of the enemy. He quickly sat up, kicking the bucket away as he did so. He backed up against a cabinet, without taking his eyes off the taller man. The blonde pushed the meat tin to Castiel. 

 

“Here invader, eat. Eat” the blonde said in an authoritative, almost condescending way. 

 

Castiel still stared up at the man, not daring to move. He could have easily poisoned the meat while he was unconscious. Or, he could shoot him while he was tearing into the meat. His mouth watered when he smelled it, so close yet so far. He could almost taste it, but dared not to move until he knew it was safe. 

 

“The only reason we’re fighting is because your uniform is a different color than mine” the blonde said. “I’m Dean” 

 

All Castiel wanted to do was respond gleefully and go with the amiable stranger, but he just couldn’t. This man was partially responsible for the death of Castiel’s entire family. He was alone in this world because the blonde man’s people wouldn’t give them a place to stay. His resolve hardened and the man stared for a moment longer. 

 

“Do you understand my language?” 

 

Castiel understood this language perfectually, although it was not his native one. His own home had been almost destroyed years ago by other invaders. They had been led by Castiel’s own brother, Lucifer. Many of Castiel’s friends and family were killed because of his older brother’s 

betrayal. His brother Michael finally subdued Lucifer, but their home was completely decimated. They had to leave the only place they had ever called home. When they finally came to another place, another place similar to home, they were denied. They were once again cast out. They could not take not having a home anymore, so they began to take it by force. They had no clue that this war would get out of hand so fast. All they ever wanted was a home, but the war had taken the home and lives of hundreds of thousands of people. Remembering this, he looked up at Dean with his wide crystal blue eyes, not sure if he should try to talk to this stranger or keep to himself. If it wasn’t for his family seeking a home, many people could still be alive and living their lives freely. He decided on the latter, his people had caused enough damage. 

 

“I guess not” Dean said. He almost turned away before adding “Anyway, there is no reason for us to fight. There are no armies left, only rags of different colors that used to be uniforms. There are no noble causes or governments or boundaries anymore, so there isn’t a reason to fight.”

 

Dean looked up at the sky through a hole in the roof, the light making his blonde hair glisten. “Hear ye, hear ye, I do by declare peace upon the entire world” He turned to Castiel and formed a slightly crooked, cocky smile.

 

“I can see you clearly now, you are very pretty.” 

 

Castiel felt his face heat up and he hoped that the blush wasn’t to noticeable. Dean either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and Castiel was happy with either. 

 

“What do you say, angel, do you wanna come with me?” Castiel said nothing as Dean sighed “The only way I could convince you to do that is by force.”

 

Castiel just continued to stare at the man in front of him

 

“I’m terribly sick of fighting” Dean looked at Castiel one last time and walked out of the old restaurant. Castiel watched him leave, made sure he was actually gone, and proceeded to tear into the meat left in the can. He constantly kept looking at the door, worried that Dean would come back and take the meat away from him. 

 

Dean walked towards what had probably been a barber shop. He could definitely use a shave. He began to rub the shaving cream on his face and neck almost groaned. It felt almost alien to have a luxury like shaving cream. The blonde moved fast, but not carelessly. He was halfway done when he heard a creak in the doorway. With half of his face still covered in the cream, Dean turned to face the door. The brunette was standing there and started to walk towards Dean. He handed the shorter man another somewhat clean razor and some of the cream. The blue eyed man walked over to another mirror, his eyes never leaving the Winchester. Dean stared right back at him. When he finally got to the mirror, both began shaving, but they continued to glance at each other suspiciously. When Dean finished, he washed the dirt and grime off of his face and the man in the trench coat did the same. Dean then threw a towel, startling the darker haired man as he struggled but succeeded to catch it.  

 

Castiel looked at the towel apprehensively, in order to dry his face, he had to look away from Dean. Looking away meant trusting the stranger to not kill him, and Castiel was not prepared to take that risk. He dabbed his face with the towel, still able to see Dean. Dean just continued to wipe his own face. As Dean turned to leave, the dark haired man darted out of the building. So it was surprising that he was waiting for the blonde when he made it to the top of the stairs and out of the building that had once been a barber shop. 

 

Dean turned to his left and the dark haired man followed, always a few steps behind the taller man. Dean stopped and stared at a long faded movie poster. The format of the old theater was almost cliche, with the ticket booth out front and the posters from the old films facing it on both sides. Dean walked towards one and almost sneered. Romance movies had never truly peaked his interest, but the poster was for a movie that he vaguely remembered Sam enjoying, so his eyes softened a bit. Dean soon saw something else in the corner of his eye: An old skeleton. He walked swiftly over to it as Castiel found another and did the same. They both found exactly what they were looking for. Castiel raised a rifle at Dean to find that the blonde had a similar firearm in his hand. 

 

“This is not going to end well” Castiel thought to himself as he held the gun steady, ready to shoot if needed. 

 

Dean and Castiel gazed at each other, both ready to pull the trigger. 

 

They stared at eachother for a long moment, both studying their rival. Even though Dean knew he would die if he pulled the trigger, it seemed like the better option. Then the war could die right here and maybe what was left of humanity could rebuild if they settled this now, but that was not why he refused to pull the trigger. It was something in the brunette’s deep blue eyes, it made him realize that even if his opponent was thinking the same thing. The blonde began to put down his weapon as the dark haired man did the same. Not lowering if fully, Dean never took his eyes off the shorter man as he walked in a semi circle towards the exit of the old movie theater.

 

Castiel did not dare to move until Dean was walking down the old sidewalk. He followed after the blonde, gun still slightly raised. It was not until they walked into the middle of the street that Castiel put down his gun. Dean walked towards a store that used to sell clothes. Before he even looked up, Castiel knew what the taller man was looking at: it was an old, but it was strangely still in good condition. He had seen it when he came into town, but it would be so impractical to wear it now, so he did not bother swiping it. 

 

“Precrassny” Castiel spoke for the first time in months, maybe a year. His voice was rough from disuse. 

 

Dean glanced at Castiel, and without a second thought, pulled the tux from the mannequin that had been wearing it for so many years. It shattered on the floor as the blonde threw the clothing at the brunette. Castiel bundled it in his arms. It would be so nice to have a new set of clothes, but Castiel did not know how to interpret this strange act of kindness. They walked down the street until Dean turned around.

 

“Put it on” Dean almost commanded.

 

Castiel did an awkward head tilt, but he was not confused by the words, just by this man. They were from opposite sides, but Dean had let him keep his food, let him wash his face and did not kill him. And now he was giving him clothes! Castiel did not understand, but he stepped inside the door titled “Recruiting Booth” anyway. There was no reason for him not to try it on. Castiel glanced out the window as Dean was drawing in the dirt with his hand. There was nothing to worry about. Castiel set the clothes down on the table and looked out the window again to make sure Dean was not about to ambush him. He took off his belt and untucked his large knife from it and began to unbutton his shirt. He stopped when he saw the posters. Castiel was no stranger to war, he had known it for most of his life, and most of the pictures did not get to him. The tanks and weapons did not mean that much to him. He walked over to the air corps picture, partially because that was what his specialty was. He missed planes so much, with the whole world beneath him and people could not be seen. It was so serene up there, so peaceful. He was about to go back to changing when he saw the last poster. 

 

It was titled “The Enemy Meets Our Troops” and what he saw reignited his rage and frustration. It was his side surrendering without any fight to its enemy. He had watched people surrender, and knew that those poor people would probably get shot in about five seconds. One by one,they would be killed, just like his family. Gabriel, Raphael, Anna, Michael, and even Balthazar, all gone now. All victims of the people who would not ever let them stay and would not even help them when they needed it. He could still avenge them, there was still time. He ran out of the recruitment booth. He would end this now or die trying. His hands were shaking as he readied himself to pull the trigger. 

 

Was this really what he wanted, to kill a man who showed him nothing but kindness? Yes it was, because the blonde would turn on him anyway. He had learned the hard way that you cannot trust anyone but your family. He breathed in and pulled the trigger.

 

Dean did not have much time to process the situation. 

 

He had been sitting on the curb waiting for the brunette to come out in his new clothes and the next thing he knew he was being shot at. Not really following the old evasive maneuvers, he sort of summer salted out of the way and hoped he would not die. Fortunately, the lasers from the gun only toppled over an old wooden cart next to him. He knew who it had to be, but he just could not believe it until he looked up and saw the handsome stranger pointing the gun at him. After everything Dean did, he gave the shorter man food and water and did not take his life, but here was the stranger, firing at him. It was the war all over again. Bullets were as frequent as double crosses, but that was over. It ended years ago now, but some wounds never heal. Maybe he was doomed to be alone forever and fight a lonely war forced on him by circumstance. Somethings never change. Dean forced himself off the ground and walked away without bothering to look back. He could not bare the shame of it until he rounded the corner and disappeared. 

 

It was only after Dean disappeared that Castiel put the gun down. He walked down the stairs with a mask of shame on his face. He could not believe he shot at the man who practically saved him. But he was still the enemy, and still evil right. He was not responsible for their deaths, but he did fight for their murders. Everyone he loved was dead, murdered by the monsters the blonde man represented. He sat down on the road, facing where Dean had been only moments before, and buried his face in his hands. 

 

The night  was cold and rainy and it reflected Cas’s mood perfectly. The young man curled up in an old chair in one of the decrepit buildings. The thunder boomed as the wind blew the long curtains into the room. Castiel tried in vain to close his eyes and drift deeper into the void. Unfortunately, all he could think of was the ridiculously green eyes and short, scruffy hair. The look of hurt and confusion etched on the blonde man’s face. He could not take it anymore, and he finally decided. His family was gone, and as terrible as it was, no amount of bloodshed could bring them back. If he could not forget this terrible war, then he would die like the rest of him. He needed to survive, he needed to remember the war never solved anything, and above all he needed Dean. As stupid and cliche as it sounded in his mind, he really did. When morning came, he knew what to do.

 

As Dean prepared to leave, his steps dragged and he tried in vain to get the dark haired man off his mind. He had ditched his old scrappy uniform for a tux and was currently tying a tie around his neck. It was not the most practical thing in the world, but it was still clothing,which he was in desperate need of. He turned around to look at the ground below as he straightened his sleeves. An old, rusty car was parked outside and behind it was the dark haired man. He was staring up at him, the deep sapphire-like eyes shone with sorrow.

 

“Go away!” Dean shouted using all of his self control. “You go take your war to more suitable companions! This is civilian territory”

 

The brunette man moved out from behind the vintage car and Dean was in shock. He slowly began to turn and Castiel’s heart lurched for a second. But Dean just went down the steps and slowly walked towards him.

 

“Precrassny” Dean smiled as he looked at the brunette. 

 

He tossed a jar and Castiel caught it with surprising agility. Dean started to walk away and Castiel chased after him. He would not loose Dean again. When he finally caught up, he faced Dean and smiled for the first time in a long time. Then they walked together, with Dean’s tie flapping in the wind. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it!


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